That warmth didn’t last. And Riya’s thoughts stuttered as a different face pushed its way in.
Kian.
Riya’s eyes snapped open—then squeezed shut again.No.Absolutely not.
She forced her thoughts back to Mel and Andrew, back to cute hand holding and a happy Mel in a sunshine-yellow prom dress.
But Kian was still there, taking up space in her mind like he owned the place.
His smirk split across her memory like a hairline crack.The way he’d called herJustice Junkiein that annoyingly silky-smooth voice. The shrug he’d tossed after smashing Mel’s mousetrap car, like her best friend’s effort, her time, was something he could just step on.
Riya’s fingers twitched.
It wasn’t evenherproject, but Riya had felt Mel’s heartbreak like a bruise in her chest. The worst part wasn’t even Kian’s carelessness—it was how Mel had tried to laugh it off. The wobble in her voice, the brittle smile. Like she’d already given up.
Riya finally understood why he’d bothered her so much.
The whole thing had reminded her of her Caltech admissions essay. The hours hunched over her laptop, rewriting the same paragraph again and again, trying to prove she deserved a chance—only for some admissions officer to skim it between their third coffee and an email from their kid’s soccer coach.
She’d worked so hard. Studied, competed, even ran for Student Council—dealt with the stress of it all because she knew it would look good on her transcript.
But what if none of it mattered? What if someone else’s distraction or indifference—someone likeKian—was all it took to crush it anyway?
The thought dug into her skin like a splinter.
People like Kian shouldn’t get to just walk away.
And suddenly—too suddenly—Riya felt her magic crackle to life, sharp and hot against her ribs.
No, focus. This is all for Mel. Focus onMel.
But the frustration wouldn’t leave.
Kian, cold and callous. The kind of person who probably never bothered to try, because trying meant caring. It was easier to smirk at the world, to cut people down before they got too close. To pretend like nothing mattered enough to get under their skin.
And maybe that was what frustrated Riya most of all.
Because people like Kian tried to make her feel foolish for caring, for believing that hard work meant something. For toiling over the same essay. For thinking if she tried hard enough, everything might finally fall into place.
Her hands clenched. The heat focused like pinpoints in her fingers, her nerves alight with something wild—
Then the world around her split.
A vast, empty white space stretched around her, swallowing her whole.
And breaking through the void, she finally saw it: A red thread shimmered in the air before her, delicate as gossamer.
The all-important thread that connected emotions.
Her heart pounded. She’d never seen one before—not even during the Incident, the first and last time she’d cast a spell. Back then, there had been no threads: just raw, untamable heat, spilling out of her like an electric charge.
It was beautiful, the thread. The way it caught the light like a garnet. The way it gave off a subtle heat, as if it pulsed with life.
But—this couldn’t have been right. Her khala had always said love magic was about connection. Tying two existingthreads together. So why was there only one thread here? And what, exactly, was she supposed to tie itto?
She hesitated. The inconsistency gnawed at her.Stupid magic and its stupid imprecision.
Except Mel was counting on her, and that mattered more than her own doubts.
